


Rites in the Hallow

by Elleth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crisis of Faith, Endtimes Númenor, F/F, Rites and Rituals, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 20:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16182587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: Toward the final years of Númenor, two estranged childhood friends cross paths again and again in the Hallow on Meneltarma.





	Rites in the Hallow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isilloth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilloth/gifts).



The procession wound up the Mountain in silence and secrecy in the near-dark, and even the two infants hushed, though both grasped at the shadows of the three eagles that accompanied them. 

Within the Hallow where the birds landed, two parent pairs stepped forward to present the children to the blue sky of morning, where the starlight was fading into a gentle sunrise. The eagles bowed their heads and took wing. 

* 

The time of the Three Prayers came and went, and while the army of Ar-Pharazôn crept northward from Umbar Kemesseldë watched from the highest edge of the Hallow, looking northward and east to the sea, while Ingorë stood below, swaying awkwardly on the balls of her feet. "Can you see them?! Are the ships returning?" 

"The seas are empty! They are not coming home! Perhaps our fathers are not returning!" 

"Mine is!" Ingorë yelled, and her voice echoed among the rocks. "He is too!" 

A startled hush fell. They had broken the silence in view of the eagles, who took wing into the unruly skies and vanished into a bright spot in between the clouds. 

*

Ingorë turned away with a heavy heart, trailing behind her parents with limbs that felt like the weight of the Mountain was pulling on each foot. She could hear Kemesseldë sniffle down in the Hallow, but just as she turned back to look, she saw her friend spit out onto the hallowed ground, before the small group closed around and took her into their middle. 

"Dairuphêl," she heard the whisper go up to the gathering clouds. "Dairuphêl. Dairuphêl!" 

The eagles were nowhere to be seen, and that at least set her heart a little at ease. Ever since Kemesseldë's and Ingorë's own father had returned from the war in the Outer Lands, there had been a change in them, but it was Kemesseldë's father who had pledged his loyalty to Ar-Pharazôn who claimed the Kingship unjustly; now the entire family had forsaken the Faithful way.

*

"It means survival, don't you understand? That is what my father says - and you will convert as well!" Kemesseldë - no, Dairuphêl now; she would no longer answer to her true name - turned from the lip of the Hallow where it sloped down into the caldera. "We can no longer meet, unless you do - and if you will not - they say that the Wizard will see you all burn for Immortality."

Dairuphêl stood waiting for an answer. It was Ingorë who turned away, and an eagle soared beside the path down the Mountain while she wept.

* * * 

Dairuphêl had spoken true. Ingorë's family burned in the temple. While she still choked on the scent of her mother's smouldering hair and ignored the deep silence that followed the fire, for Vardairë had gone in silence, somehow, familiar arms came around her. 

Ingorë let herself fall. She was unsure whether it was a mercy that she knew where she would be fostered, but Dairuphêl at least was a comfort, even though she turned her head away and her greeting kiss came on Ingorë's cheek only.

Everything in her longed to turn her head back, but she simply let herself be guided to the carriage waiting outside the temple to take her to her new home. 

*

Ingorë sighed when her foster-sister's hands left her back. She sat up, sheets pooling around her hips before she had a chance to cover herself, but Dairuphêl turned her head away with a sharp intake of breath. 

"What is it?" Ingorë asked softly. She was still warm from the ritual bath she had been made to take after entering the house only hours earlier, and the image of her mother's unscreaming face before it went slack in the temple flames kept replaying before her mind's eye unless she was able to concentrate on something else. They all wore friendly faces, familiar from earliest childhood, but only Dairuphêl had come when she had heard her old friend weeping in her bare quarters, and gathered her into her arms.

"It is… you are nothing," Dairuphêl replied. "Or so I was taught, once we were forbidden to meet. But you are… not nothing to me. You never have been, and I am sorry you were made to be here." 

"It was the Zigûr's order from the King's mouth," Ingorë answered. "Not yours. I do not hold you responsible. I would rather be with you than on my own." 

Tension drained from Dairuphêl's body. "I thought you were brave. Today, in the temple. I could not watch, so I watched you. I would have murdered the King if I had been forced to sit with my mother's murderer." 

Ingorë snorted involuntarily, even as her sight blurred with involuntary tears. "She went to serve in the temple for my protection. I have nothing left but my life, and I cannot squander it for petty revenge." 

"Petty revenge? If you killed - " Dairuphêl sighed and shook her head. "I should not be speaking." 

Ingorë reached for her wrists and uncurled the fists Dairuphêl had curled them into. "I know what I am seeing here. And The One will forgive you in the Great End."

Dairuphêl leaned in attentively. "Forgiveness? There is no teaching like that in the promise of Melkor's return. Speak quietly. Refresh my memory."

*

They were handfasted on the Mountain in silence, a ribbon and jewel of Manwë's sky blue sealing their bond. From a distance, the eagles watched, all three of them. 

*

"Kemesseldë!" 

Ingorë greeted her lover with an urgent kiss, only breaking away again when she began pushing against her shoulders. "We must go! Elendil called; they are making ready to go to the ships." 

"I cannot! I cannot go without the last rite! We cannot leave the Island without a last visit the Hallow; it is in my name! Our journey will fail without a sacrifice there! And I do not know if the Queen will have the heart to go!"

Kemesseldë sighed and let her go. "Come to the ships as soon as you can, before the Mountain wakes."

"It is in my name," Ingorë repeated, turned her head away and tried to smile. "I am proud I have found my reason for all that came to pass - you. And this moment. I must go, and when it is time to meet again, we shall. You are the proof that the One affords miracles." 

Kemesseldë drew her into another kiss. "Go. Hurry!" 

*

The ships rode the first of the waves easily. It seemed, to Kemesseldë, that outlined against the burning on the Mountain, she could see a figure the size of a star in the sky on the edge of the Hallow, raising her arms in fear - or triumph. 

And she understood at last as the eagles rose from the same spot Ingorë had stood, all of them outlined in a blaze of white light that had no place in the fire of the volcano.

The light from the figure on the Mountain vanished in a silent blaze of flame. Only then did the sound roll over the waves to sweep them away to the Outer Lands.

**Author's Note:**

> Ingorë = Mountaintop  
> Dairuphêl/Kemesseldë = Earth-Daughter


End file.
